


Craving

by two_of_swords



Series: Thousand Followers Prompts [8]
Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Adam cooks dinner, Canon Compliant, Established Relationship, Life at the Barns, M/M, Prompt Fill, Ronan plays with Chainsaw and it's very cute, Tumblr Prompt, very mild angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-02
Updated: 2019-09-02
Packaged: 2020-10-05 20:46:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20495081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/two_of_swords/pseuds/two_of_swords
Summary: “What’s all this?” Ronan asks, taking one of the bags from Adam’s hand.“I had a craving.”Ronan had suspected as much about the craving, but didn’t think it had anything to do with food. “You’re going to cook??”





	Craving

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr prompt fill #40 “Cooking is definitely not your forte.” - Sent by Anon
> 
> It's almost a year later and I'm still working on these prompts, but I'm so excited to post something after pretty much taking the entire summer off from fic writing.
> 
> Couple of notes: 
> 
> 1\. The recipe in this fic is real. My dad's mom tore it out of a magazine many years ago and gave it to my mom to try because it was cheap and made a lot of food. I think it's delicious.
> 
> 2\. I was most certainly inspired by the viral video going around of the man cuddling with his raven.
> 
> 3\. The Chainsaw spelling swears with alphabet blocks thing - I'm not sure if that's something I made up in my own head or if it was a Tumblr post I read once. If it's the latter, please let me know so I can link/give credit. I looked, but couldn't find anything.

Ronan tightens the last screw on the new hinge and gives the cabinet door a healthy slam. His phone chastises him from his back pocket in response and he thinks he’d like to give it a healthy slam as well. He’s less annoyed, though, when he fishes it out and recognizes the number for Boyd’s Body & Paint flashing across the screen.

“Parrish?”

“Hey, Lynch. You still at home?”

Ronan pulls the phone away from his face to check the time. “Shit. Yeah. Just about to head back to Monmouth.”

“I was thinking I could come to the Barns instead,” Adam says, his voice distant and tinny against the backdrop of the sounds of the garage. “We could stay there tonight.”

Ronan hadn’t yet committed to living at the Barns full time, but this thing with Adam was pushing him ever closer to that eventuality. 

“Okay. There’s nothing to eat here though. Unless you want stale cereal for dinner.”

“I’ll pick something up on the way.”

“You’re full of good ideas, Parrish.”

Adam huffs a laugh. “I’ll see you in an hour.”

“Oh come on. You can do better than that.”

“Only if I drive like you.”

“Everyone should drive like me.”

“Bye, Lynch.”

Ronan ends the call and tucks the phone back into his pocket, the corners of his mouth turning up as far as he’ll let them. He knows he’s got at least thirty minutes to kill and he could go back to replacing the broken hinges on the kitchen cabinets, but he’s in too good of a mood now to slam anything.

He walks barefoot through the living room and stops to admire Chainsaw’s work with the alphabet blocks he dumped out for her when they first arrived. It could be a coincidence but she has the blocks arranged in a haphazard way that very clearly spells F-U-C-K. He beams down at her and holds out his arm. “That’s my girl.”

She squawks up at him before hopping on and hitching a ride to the front porch. Ronan sits on the top stair in the cool spring air and lets Chainsaw down in the damp grass. They play a game where Ronan takes some of the dream bits and bobs he’s collected from his daily chore routine from his front pocket and tosses them to Chainsaw who promptly hides them under an old dead leaf. It’s like Hide and Seek in reverse.

“Where’s Opal?” Ronan asks her, once his hands are empty.

Chainsaw does nothing to hide her disdain for her satyr sister. She hisses and flaps her wings and finds five more leaves to more thoroughly cover her treasure pile.

“Can’t you just get along?” Ronan asks, as if it’s the easiest thing in the world to like your sibling. She turns her back on him and buries her head under her wing and pretends to be sleeping.

“Faker. Come here.”

Chainsaw lifts her head and does a funny little backward waddle until she bumps into his outstretched leg. Ronan scoops her up and cradles her in his arms. She caws and squirms, half-heartedly trying to break from his hold.

“Shhhh,” Ronan says, freeing a hand to smooth down the ruffled feathers on the back of her head. “Just let me hold you like a baby.”

She settles down and Ronan grins, bumping her beak with his nose when she won’t quite look him in the eye. He begins to hum an old tune of his father’s and rocks her gently from side to side. When he finishes the song, he starts another. He’s not sure if its a blessing or a curse that he knows so many but the sound of tires crunching gravel keeps his mind from traveling too far along that line of thought. He stands and walks toward Adam’s shitbox, still clutching Chainsaw to his chest. The ground is cold beneath his feet.

“Are you supposed to hold a raven like that?” Adam asks, grabbing a couple of plastic bags off the passenger seat, before shutting the door.

“She likes it.” Ronan shrugs and leans in for a kiss. Chainsaw takes advantage of his momentary distraction and loosened grip and makes a break for it, leaving Ronan and Adam behind in a burst of frantic feathers. They watch her soar through the sky and land on the roof of the long barn.

“What’s all this?” Ronan asks, taking one of the bags from Adam’s hand.

“I had a craving.”

Ronan had suspected as much about the craving, but didn’t think it had anything to do with food. “You’re going to cook??”

“Hey! Don’t act so surprised.”

“Sorry, Parrish, but cooking is definitely not your forte.” Ronan rifles through the plastic grocery bag as they make their way back towards the house. “Wait. All that’s in here is two pounds of hamburger, a can of soup and ketchup.”

“I’m making barbeque.”

“That doesn’t sound like any barbeque I’ve ever had before”

“It’s not what you’re thinking. It’s more like a sloppy joe, I guess. My mom called it barbeque.”

Ronan stops in his tracks. “What?”

Adam doesn’t hear him but he also doesn’t seem bothered by the mention of his mother, so Ronan tries not to be too. He follows Adam to the kitchen and watches him dig through the lower cupboards looking for an appropriate pan.

“Yesss,” Adam says when he finds what he is looking for. He stands and thunks a large, deep skillet onto the burner and turns on the flame. He finds a knife and slices open the wrapping on the hamburger and dumps the hunk of meat into the hot pan with a splat. “I’m starving.” He looks up at Ronan with a wide smile on his face.

Ronan can’t help but loop his arms around his waist and bury his own smile in the back of Adam’s neck.

“Got a wooden spoon?” Adam asks.

“Somewhere around here.” Ronan lets him go and rummages through the drawers until he finds one and hands it to Adam.

Adam holds the spoon for a quiet moment before saying, “not a dream thing.”

“No.” Ronan agrees. This is a game they play when they stay at the Barns. “Mom probably got it at Walmart.”

Adam nods and turns to break up the browning meat. Ronan watches with amusement, then confusion, then horror as Adam pours the entire can of chicken gumbo soup and more than half of the bottle of ketchup on top of the meat.

“Is it supposed to look like that?” Ronan asks.

Adam doesn’t answer, just opens a small spice jar, that Ronan had somehow missed when he scoped out the contents of the grocery bag, and liberally sprinkles on the red pepper.

“Hey, hey, hey… go easy,” Ronan says, sticking his hand out to stop the flow of spices into the meat-soup-ketchup mix below.

Ronan realizes his mistake before the first flake even hits his open palm. He can see the wheels turning in Adam’s head. Can practically see his thoughts.  _ Ronan Lynch never goes easy on anything. _

“Afraid your bland Irish taste buds can’t handle it, Lynch?” Adam grins, but it’s evil.

Ronan glares at Adam and turns his hand upside down over the pan. “I can handle it.”

Adam backs him into the corner of the counter, hands on hips. “You sure?”

Ronan wipes his hand on Adam’s t-shirt before wrapping it around the back of his neck and pulling him in for a messy kiss.

“How long does that have to cook?” Ronan asks, pausing their heated make out session.

“I don’t know? Twenty minutes?” Adam says, his voice less certain than the thigh he’s pressed between Ronan’s legs.

“Plenty of time.”

“For what?”

Ronan pushes him away from the counter and out of the kitchen and up the stairs.

A little more than twenty minutes later, while Adam recovers, Ronan sneaks into the kitchen to find the concoction still bubbling happily on the stove. He had kind of hoped it had burned so they could just drive back into town for take out. He lowers the heat on the burner and picks up the discarded wooden spoon and tentatively stirs the mixture, before bringing a spoonful to his lips to taste. It’s surprisingly good, but it is a little spicy. Ronan can’t tell if he’s flushed from the physical activity or the food. He takes another bite.

“So what do you think?” Adam asks, standing in the doorway in only a pair of sweats. The satisfied smirk on his face is too much to bear. 

“You think my Irish taste buds are bland?” Ronan picks up the red pepper and shakes more over the pan. He knows he’s going to regret it later, but he can’t let Adam win.

Adam laughs and digs through the second grocery bag. He pulls out a pack of hamburger buns, a bag of Fritos Scoops and some shredded cheese.”These will help cut the spice, lightweight. If not, there’s always the stale cereal.”

Ronan doesn’t regret waving his middle finger in Adam’s smug face.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I'm @two-of-swords-621 on Tumblr, where asks, messages, likes and reblogs are always welcome. <3


End file.
